Compendium of the Watchful
Written by Crotta Rockbender *Language: Gnome For a hundred and forty years I have been a priestess of Maenor, the Earth God, the Master of the Deeps, Father of the Gorges, King of the Mountains. Every Garragan Thrun, which we celebrate on the 20th of Broken Septun, we summon him for guidance, as well as to offer things that preservere and stand the rain to His Majesty. He is a stern but wise master. We do not invoke him on any Garragan Thrun troubled by storms, for those nights belong to the Mad One, the Air God, even if they do coincide with the occassion. The Earth God at such times understands our caution. The King's invocation is a very personal one. I have been a priestess for so long, but the Earth God values the quality of his worshippers I am sure, and the truth behind our awe for him. When I was a Gnome youngling of thirty, I joined my grandmother's coven, worshippers of the Dead Mounts, the plotting dead. Blackmail, bribery, fear are as much the weapons of the Witches of the Dead Mounts as is dark magic. The Invocation of the Dead Mounts is on the 15th of Frozen Dissen, except if the weather is dry. This ceremony is seldom missed but the Gauged Prince always often appears to his cultists in mortal guise on other dates. When my grandmother died in an attempt to use the Azure to poison the heir of the Witches, I re-examined my faith in the cult. My brother was a warlock of the cult of Kaeth and from what he told me, the Dark Warrior was closer to my spirit than the treacherous coven. Kaeth is a Warrior Prince who acts more overtly than any other Lesser Gods. After years of skulking and scheming, it felt good to perform acts for a master which had direct, immediate consequences. Besides, I liked it that Kaeth was considered a Din of the Fey. Our cult would summond him on the day we called the Gauntlet, the 2nd of Dusk Ogos. Bloody competitions would be held in his honor, and the duels and battles would continue until nine cultists were killed at the hands of other cultists. Kaeth cared little for his cultists - he only cared for our blood. I do think I saw his smile when I accidentalt slew my brother in a sparring session. My horror, I think, greatly pleased him! I left the cult soon after that. Kaeth was too impersonal for me, too cold. I wanted a master of greater depth. For the next forty years of my life, I worshipped no one. Instead I read and traveled and researched. It was an old and profane tome the I came upon name of Nectun, the Mistress of the Moon, the Unfathomable. As the book prescribed, I called to her on her holy day, the 5th of Trickster Mars. At last I had found the personal mistress I had so long desired. I strove to understand her labyrinthine philosophy, the source of her mysterious pain. Everything about her was dark and shrouded, even the way she spoke and the acts she required of me. It took years for me to understand the simple fact that I could never understand Nectun. Her mystery was essential to her as savagery was to Kaeth or treachery to the Gauged Prince. To understand Nectun is to negate her, to pull back the curtains cloaking her realm of darkness. As much as I loved her, I recognised the futility on unraveling her enigmas. I turned instead to my instincts. To myself. My roots. The true god, the Earth God is the only being I have ever worshipped who seems to care about his followers. The Gauged Prince wanted my mind, Kaeth wanted my arms, and Nectun perhaps my curiosity. The Earth God wants all of that, and our love above all. Not our abject slavering for we are already His, but our honest and genuine caring in all its forms. It is important to him that our emotions be engaged in his worship. And our love must also be directed inward. If we love him and hate ourselves, he feels our pain. I will, for all time, have no other Master.